


don't change (not a single curve or one line)

by oncewewerezombies



Series: Summer lo+wvin month [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dream Bubbles, Dress Up, F/M, Fashion & Couture, Hair Brushing, Innuendo, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Porrim 'Mistress of the Dark' Maryam, humankin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 18:38:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19910359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncewewerezombies/pseuds/oncewewerezombies
Summary: Cronus finds a dress for his moirail.





	don't change (not a single curve or one line)

**Author's Note:**

> 3\. Fashion

"See that? That's peak vampire couture," you tell Porrim with feeling and she turns a little, swishing the elongated bell-sleeves, as she looks herself over in your full length mirror. Of course you've got a full length mirror in your respiteblock, what were you, some kind of fucking barbarian? You had your own looks to think of. Making sure your jeans fit right over the curves of your ass, things like that.

Right now, the mirror is reflecting Porrim in the dress you'd found a memory of, somewhere in a dreambubble. A human one. Its pointed crenellation of a hem goes all the way down to the floor, its black and tight around her torso and all that fabric that you know it's got doesn't seem to cover much more than the essentials. The split goes as high as her usual one does, maybe just a tad higher. The neckline ain't even a neckline, it dips right past her rumblespheres into a point just below. The sleeves are nothing like her usual, flared and split to the elbow leaving her hands free but with long arcs of fabric for her to swish around dramatically and it looks like she's enjoying it a whole fuckin lot. 

When she turns, the material of the full skirts glides regally across the floor in a smooth sweep. 

Porrim looks as fucking delighted as a wiggler on Twelfth Perigee Night. Her hands touch and smooth the way the material dips down over her hips, then flares out in an all encompassing circle. A small adjustment to the neckline, to help it lie flatter and you grin, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jeans, shoulders rounding into a comfortable slouch.

"You look smokin', babe."

"Demeaning nicknames will get you nowhere, Cronus," Porrim says absently, and does another spin. Slow and careful, really feeling how the fabric was moving. You could tell just from watching the set of her shoulders, and the half-glance you had of her face, the way her mouth curved with satisfaction. "This dress just might, however."

"Why don't you sit down, and I'll do your hair?" you suggest, and she turns to look at you and raises one regal eyebrow. Your earfins flick out defensively, and you can feel your lower lip starting to curve into a pout before you ruthlessly flatten it out. Nah, you ain't doing that shit anymore. Porrim actually is pale for you, and you're not gonna fuck this up. "You know I'm good at upstyles."

"Hmm..." Porrim makes a play of thinking about it, before going to sit down at the chair in front of your vanity table. The skirt settles around her like a shadow, thigh exposed almost to where you think you could see the lower edge of her panties. You swallow. "Alright, Cronus. Let's see what you can do." 

"You're gonna be amazed," you say confidently, and pick up a hairbrush to start sweeping it through her hair gently. It's gonna be interesting trying to work a human hairstyle around those horns of hers too, make it still look good. You're used to doing it yourself, but it's gonna be something else with hers. They got a little more height. "Don't vworry about a thing."

She makes you brush her hair out and redo it when she sees the beehive though, no matter how much you protest that you were just bein' true to the picture you'd found with the dress.

It's still worth it.


End file.
